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Saturday, 26 September 2009

For Edward Dorn


.


File:TitcombLakesWY.jpg




The passes over & through which I’ve

been driven by you, Edward,

are bright & shining, in


my mind. The prairie

dog we visited, in my mind

now that you’ve gone


(8:30 P.M. PST

12/10/99) reminds a traveler

is a man alone,


in a long coat,

on a dusty prairie,

walking on water


because the desert is now closed.



1:28 A.M.

12/11/99



File:Ghost Trees at Fountain Paint Pot.JPG




















Wind River Range, Wyoming, Green Lakes region of Bridger Wilderness, Bridger-Teton National Forest: photo by G. Thomas, 2007

Ghost Trees at Fountain Paint Pot, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming: photo by Wing-Chi Poon, 2004

12 comments:

BlindWilliam said...

Thx. Needed to think abt him.

Scott said...

in a long coat,
on a dusty prairie,
walking on water

because the desert is now closed.

Love that so much.

Dale said...

Tom, yes, thanks so much for this. It's still hard to believe that we approach a tenth December.

Lucy in the Sky said...

Beyond the pictures you posted, your words convey wonderful images, Tom.

Marcia said...

Thank you, Tom, for turning our thoughts to Ed Dorn in this lovely poem. I never met him, but I enjoyed hearing you speak of your travels across the West with him: the rumbling train cars, carrying coal at night; the grasses of the high plains, undulating in the wind. Yes, it's time to read some Dorn again.

Gary Parrish said...

Just beautiful, how that slip from earth into air is brought forward. True feeling hits me like a ton of bricks.

Pierre Joris said...

yes, indeed, compadre, soncosas of the desert & Ed knew them — Pierre

aditya said...

Heyy TC

As of now, I do not know of Edward Dorn. But I guess you've learned a lot from the man.

I am a small time traveler too.

TC said...

Thanks so much everybody, I hope those not yet acquainted with the writings of Edward Dorn will be inspired to look into them. Ed was a great lyricist and chronicler of the American West in particular, its landforms and its peoples.

Aditya, I've always been a small time traveler myself, which is why it always felt like such a privilege to ride the West with Ed. Thinking to maybe bring him alive in his traveling mode a bit more fully for you, I've just now put up the post above.

Annie said...

...
It all ends in not being different
than the shalestone or hunk
of lime
breaking into daylight
let us not mention ford cars
a measurement of distance is
probably not valuable.
Breaking into the shale stone
or hunk of limestone we all view
the crescent moons of shells.
Then the black outline of foliage
a finger's spread high,

there, moons

and leaves, we are all going
to be there
it is the backyard
of our eternity.
...
Ed Dorn, exerpt from The Land Below

John Macker said...

Tom Clark:

thanks much for that small surge of a poem. I'm a poet & live near the desert in No. New Mexico- have read & loved the incredible Ed for years. One of my 1st public readings was with Ed & Linda Hogan in Denver, 1983, Slightly Off Center Theatre. Very much loved your bio on Ed as well. Gunslinger is a major source in my life.

thanks,
John Macker

TC said...

Thanks John, this conversation feels like coming home. (I'd thought that impossible.)

Thought you might also be interested in this one.

And while we're on the dear departed, here's a poem Ed always did like. (The top image was picked in hopes of kindling a small light in his eyes in eternity.)

New Years Eve 1979 our two families made it over Raton in a blizzard to get down to where you are, one of those impossible (speaking of) adventures of yesteryear.